


Something Abstract

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, F/F, F/M, Girls Kissing, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Kissing, Love, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Kissing, Underage Smoking, gays, girls, life - Freeform, polygamous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4398773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"More like a love octagon or something. I like Jake, and only Jane knows that. Aranea likes Jake, me, Jane and Roxy all know about that. Jane likes Jake, me, Roxy and Meenah know about that. Meenah likes Aranea, everyone but Aranea knows that. Roxy likes Jake, I'm the only one that knows that, but she also likes Jane, and me and Jake know that."</p><p>"Well shit."</p><p>"What's up with your love triangle?"</p><p>"Not much of one. Rose and Kanaya are dating, Jade likes both of them and is planning on telling them soon. I like John, but he's straighter then a package of rulers in a church. I like Karkat too, but he hates my guts, so that's a no there. I think John had a thing for Rose, but that was last year, and he seems pretty over it by now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Abstract

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I haven't updated Hurricane, don't hate me  
> 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 4:04 --

TG: egbert the ghostly remains of long lost doritoes (doritos??) live on my desk  
TG: theyre calling out to me from beyond the grave  
TG: beckoning me forward to join deaths cool embrace  
TG: hell ran his skeletor bone fingers up and down my sides before embracing me in a mad wicked bro hug  
TG: then his hands will lower and ill be like whoa man relax there  
TG: you cant touch my ass we havent even had dinner yet jeez learn how to treat a lady christmas asshole fuck  
TG: i worded that weird  
TG: theres no such thing as a lady christmas asshole fuck  
TG: learn how to treat a lady. christmas asshole fuck  
TG: okay that sounds better  
TG: wow man the wonders one little period could do you feel me  
TG: well technically you do and you dont because you always use periods anyway  
TG: whilst i prefer to use autocorrect to fix my shit and pretend punctuation is nonexistent  
TG: totally is in my mind i mean really who needs punctuation anyway  
TG: well i guess your toolish self  
TG: aaaand roses witchy self  
TG: speaking of have you spoken to her lately  
TG: she was looking to engage in conversation with you a few days ago  
TG: i forgot to tell you whoops  
TG: i dont think it was anything important though idk  
TG: ugh bro why arent you answering me do you have your phone on silent like a dick  
TG: you do dont you  
EB: dave.  
TG: fucking christ finally there you are bro man i was starting to get worried  
EB: dave. it is 4:30 in the morning. i was sleeping.  
TG: okay cool you gotta check out this picture though  
TG: wtf.gif  
TG: seriously man shits whack, look at it what even is that  
TG: like he just jumps in the air and fwamp  
TG: thats some serious digital effects right there maybe one day i can do that wicked shit  
TG: we can make videos of ourselves and then disappear in the ground  
TG: like mole people or those little pokemon  
TG: i think theyre called diglets or something  
EB: dave. it's a gif of you wiggling your toes and laughing deeply.  
TG: ...  
TG: wrong gif man hold on let me find it its somewhere in my folders  
TG: maybe i put it in the spank bank  
EB: ...  
TG: its a folder dont question it with your stupid little ellipses  
EB: fuck man. just. stop. go to sleep. why are you awake in the first place? are you on drugs, dave? is it time for an intervention?  
TG: okay first off interventions are supposed to be a surprise if you knew anything at all you would know that  
TG: nobody willingly shows up to their intervention what even is this heap of man musk garbage youre throwing at me egmeme  
EB; ... man musk. egmeme.  
TG: oh i found the gif its wowlookatthesefuckingnerds.gif  
TG: isnt it fucking sick though  
TG: like theyre editing skills are top fucking notch god damn im swearing like a sailor  
EB: they're great, dave. was that all?  
TG: are you saying you dont like talking to me  
TG: well whatever man, i dont need no pity  
TG: dont need none of your apathy  
TG: that shits fucking blasphemy  
EB: dave, i'm going to stop you in your rapping tracks and tell you what a fucking loser you are, and that if you don't quit right now, i am going to walk to your apartment, set fire to everything you love, and tell bro it was you who stole the vodka from his cabinet.  
TG: ... ok ill stop  
EB: good. now, i am going back to sleep. don't message me again, not until the clock strikes ten. then, and only then, will we speak again.  
TG: did you just fucking  
TG: what the fuck that wasnt even good you white fucking

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 4:58 --

 

Dave stared in utter disbelief down at his phone from where he sat hunched over his desk, shades pushed up to rest in his dark blonde floofy hair, unaware of the fact they were slowly beginning to slide down his nose. The glowing light from his phone illuminated his face, his very shocked face. Sure, the rap was shit, poorly executed, and sounded as if it came from the mouth of a five year old... but it was John. John wasn't supposed to rap. He was supposed to go about his own nerdy business and leave Dave to the cool stuff, but. Here that fucker was. Rapping. Dave had half a mind to message him again and educate the fucker, but decided against it simply because he heard something fall over downstairs.

Time to investigate.

The boy, that's all he was really, tossed his phone on to his spades and hearts blanket, before scooping up a sword off of the floor. Gotta be prepared, right? He made sure to grip it tight enough so it wouldn't fly out of his hand in case he needed to swing it, keeping it close to his side as he slowly crept out of the room.

The hallway was dark and long (insert a Dave's non-existent dick joke here) in his eyes, no lights on in the four bedroom apartment. He knew realistically, it was probably one of his older brothers, even more realistically, Bro drunk off of his God damn ass and stumbling around. Unless Dirk snuck out earlier without Dave realizing, and was now sneaking back in, which was also a definite possibility. Dave also knew exactly why he would sneak out. Having a major crush on someone who's addicted to danger and adventure so bad he practically gets off on it must be tough. Dirk could deny it all he wants, but Dave wasn't an idiot, Bonnie Raitt had stated it quite beautifully. They laughed a little too loud (when Dirk laughed it was more of a creepy breathy type thing, not wanting to actually be loud, so it was mostly just Jake) and Dirk definitely had some issues with staring at people, that's for damn certain. Most people couldn't tell, but Striders have practice with reading every tiny facial expression that could indicate just exactly where they were looking, and what they were even thinking at times.

But if it was Dirk coming back into the apartment, he wasn't very good at keeping his ass quiet, that's for sure. Dave was pretty good at keeping his feet silent, no matter what he was wearing or what floor, being the shortest (5'10", not really all that short, but compared to his brothers it was) and the skinniest one in the house, he had long since learned how to keep quiet, and stay quick on his feet. His only real advantage during strifes was being able to duck and roll beneath their legs. Which he most definitely has done before. And he would do it again in a heartbeat, despite how "lame" they always claimed it to be. Better than getting a sword slashed all up and over his beautiful face,  that's for Sure. He liked his beautiful mug, thank you very much.

Nearing the end of the hallway, Dave pauses, just poking his head out from around the corner; the place looked mostly empty, the living room littered with old Chinese food cartons, soda cans, and multicolored puppets with phallic shaped noses. Kicking one aside with a small exasperated noise, Dave ventured onwards, red gaze flicking back and forth between the various objects, soaking in his surroundings. The only light that was on came from the television, turned on to some Spanish speaking  commercial, the stereotypical mustached man waving his arms around, seeming much too excited to be selling vacuums. The volume was off, but the subtitles were at the bottom, which he didn't really understand. If he was already speaking Spanish, why would they have Spanish subtitles? Is he genuinely speaking too fast to comprehend? Why was this on in the first place? Nobody in the apartment spoke Spanish, except Dirk. But he only knew a few sentences, and that's just because of Spanish class. He'd know more, but halfway through the year the teacher broke his hip, and they dumped some substitute in their place. One that didn't even speak Spanish. Public schools were magnificent.

Dave walked past the television, almost jumping at the shadow he created over the entire room. Yes, he almost jumped at his own damn shadow, he couldn't help it. He wouldn't ever admit to that happening though, so let's move past that.

Speaking of moving past, he sneaked around the coffee table, and the futon. The bed was pulled out, a tangle of sheets twisted and pushed to one side of the mattress, a few spare and limp pillows scattered near the top, one having jumped over the edge and was lying on the floor. Dave slid in to the kitchen, socks extra slippery against the sudden linoleum, a thing he forgot to factor in when just speeding into the kitchen the way he did. It was like time slowed down, and he could feel himself falling, unable to regain his footing in time to stop it.

The sudden hand on his wrist practically yanked him back upwards (not practically, it was definitely a yank) and he dropped the sword with a loud clatter. Looking up to his savior, it was indeed his very drunk oldest brother, who had the face of someone who spent decades practicing stoicy. He always looked bored, and the only reason Dave could even tell he was drunk was the harsh stench of vodka that assaulted his nose. Jeez, he felt like he was practically drunk himself from the stink. Bro let him go once he was actually standing, one eyebrow raising in question. Just as Dave was going to explain he heard a noise, he noticed the kitchen chair that was lying sideways on the floor. Yup, that'd be the noise.

"You're an idiot when you're drunk." 

"At least I'm not an idiot sober."

"Fair point." He wanted to also say "and at least I'm not a dick sober too", but Bro was in a good mood for once, and he'd rather let it be for now. And that was the main exchange between the brothers, before Bro walked around him, and going in to the living room once more.

"Didn't you forget something?"

And then Bro immediately turned back around, nudging Dave on the way to the counter, grabbing the two liter of Pepsi off the granite, and the sandwich with who even knows what on it. It looked pretty thin, like it was literally just two pieces of bread smacked together, and Dave's own eyebrows raised in curiosity. "What kind of sandwich is that?" He asked, leaning down and lifting up the kitchen chair, sliding it to it's rightful place, seat under the table. Bro shrugged, tossing the Pepsi on to the bed, and dropping the plate near the end. "Mustard."

"Mustard? Like, just plain mustard? That's it?"

"Yup. Got a problem?"

"We can talk all fuckin' night about my problems, but hot damn I'm interested in talking about yours. What happened to you? Whatever possessed you to make a plain mustard sandwich? Mustard is disgusting to begin with, but a plain mustard sandwich? Who the fuck just goes "damn, you know what I'm hankerin' for? A mustard sandwich. Only a mustard sandwich will fill the loneliness in my heart that overwhelms me in the wee hours of the night". Seriously, just a plain mustard sandwich?"

Bro seems to almost not understand, just staring at Dave, like he was some foreign object. "Would it help if I told you there was also pepperoni on it?"

"Would that be a lie?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me anyway."

"It's a mustard and pepperoni sandwich."

"Thank God, I thought you were the jackass that ate plain mustard sandwiches at five thirty in the morning. My image of you was nearly tainted." Not that he had any good images of his brother, but still. And then Dave walked back into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the mustard. Despite the mini rant he had just been on, he thought he should at least try a mustard sandwich. But as soon as he sat the mustard down on the counter, Bro's voice cut him out of his thoughts. "Kid, don't make a fuckin' mustard sandwich. Come take a bite of this one and see if you like it first. 'Cause I know you're just gonna spit it out like a little girl."

Rolling his eyes and ignoring a slight sickness to his stomach at the insult, Dave brought his hand up and pushed his shades to rest on the bridge of his nose, in a snotty sort of way before going back into the living room. On the way, he kicked the sword underneath the kitchen table, not wanting anyone to accidentally step on it later. He made sure to kick it by the handle, knowing that now would not be the best time to slice his foot open. Not that any time was a good time, really. 

Falling down heavily on to the bed, he didn't bother asking before taking the sandwich off of the paper plate most definitely used more than once, taking a much too large bite out of the corner. He then immediately spit it out, sputtering, dropping the sandwich on the plate and bring his sleeve up, wiping at his tongue. "Bro, what the fuck?"

"Dijon mustard."

"That is not Dijon mustard you twisted fuck, you can't even taste the wine in normal Dijon mustard. What the fuck is that?"

"Dijon mustard. After I added a few things to it to spice it up."

"Bro, who the fuck adds alcohol to their mustard? You have a bottle of Pepsi right there, why wouldn't you just spike that?"

The silence that followed confirmed two things. 

One, Bro never even considered that.

Two, Bro was a fucking idiot.

Bro ended up just shrugging, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite of the disgusting thing. Dave stood, shaking his head at the fool, before making his way back into the kitchen, tossing the mustard into the fridge, watching as it clanked against swords. "We have like ten cupboards in this place, three closets, y'all," whoops, Texan accent slip. "You all, got your own bedrooms, and yet you keep these swords in the fridge. Why?" He knew Bro would just ignore his complaining from past experience, so he didn't bother listening for an answer, reaching in to the light and pulling out some leftover Thai food from who even knows when. He opened it to make sure it wasn't moldy, before dumping the contents on to a fresh paper plate and tossed it in the microwave to nuke it. Dave twirled around, leaning back to rest on the counter, ignoring the sharp edge that dug into his lower back. "So, what booty call loud music bar you go to tonight? It obviously wasn't all that great considering you're home this early."

"This early? I got home around four. You really don't pay attention, do you?"

"I heard your oafish ass knock the chair over, didn't I? I was doin' stuff at four. And yes it's early, you usually don't even come home until noon the next day."

"Fair point." When he didn't further expand, or say where he went, Dave just rolled his eyes at the silence. Bro liked to think he wasn't thirty five years old, and go out every weekend to some shitty club, where the music was too loud and so were the people. Dave honestly didn't see the appeal, but every time he asked D (whenever he was around anyway) he just said Bro was a walking constant midlife crisis. D was always going around, trying to make his career pop, although it hadn't been working out all that great. D was only thirty, which really wasn't all that old in Dave's mind, but D insisted it was far too old for someone still trying to crack their way into show business.

The loud beeping of the microwave brought him back from his thoughts, pulling the plate out and grabbing a fork from the drawer, sticking it into the Kuay Tiew, ignoring the fact the liquid part of the soup (he put soup on a fucking plate, someone punch this asshole in the face) was soaking into the bottom of the plate. Until it was getting all over his hand, so he instead grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, dumping the food in to it and tossing the plate in the trash. He ignored Bro's scoff and mutter of a "fucking idiot", stirring around the beef flavored cuisine. He shoveled a good forkful into his mouth, chewing the food slowly, padding over to the kitchen window and looking outside. The sun was starting to come up, throwing colors of red, orange, and bright yellow in several messy streaks across the sky to create something abstract. Dave didn't think much before setting the bowl silently on the counter, damn near running from the kitchen, (ignoring his brother's stare) and hurrying to his own room. He grabbed his camera off the desk, slinging the strap around his neck. After he grabbed his food from the kitchen, he climbed up the fire escape, and on to the roof. The Striders pretty much dominated the roof, a few swords scattered about, and even a sex puppet here or there. Moving towards the air conditioner, Dave set the bowl on top of the thing, ignoring how loud the vibrations were.

He then popped the lense off of the camera, dragging his feet over to the ledge, setting his camera down on the tall brick before turning his camera on. He probably should have just grabbed his tripod, but he was past that, and he didn't want to miss the perfect shot. He put the camera in focus, staying completely silent as he concentrated, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, nose ever so slightly scrunching up, all factoring in to make his usual face of concentration. He then set the camera to take a picture every minute, taking a step back to admire the actual view, but not through the camera. Dave turned, going back over to the air conditioning, barely managing to scoop up the bowl before it made a death leap towards the ground. "Come on man, why you gotta be like that? I practically made you who you are today. Don't treat me like that." He shook his head.

Fucking bowls. Never showing respect.

He then began eating the now not so warm food, just stuffing it into his mouth, barely even chewing before swallowing each time. Who needs chewing? Seriously, it was way overrated. As he sat in silence, nothing but him eating filling said silence, his mind began wandering off to all kinds of things. Many things of not much importance, and before he knew it his bowl was empty, fork making that hideous scratching sound as it hit the bottom. The noise alone made him shiver hard, and it even felt like it hurt his teeth. Fucking scratchy noises. Dave leaned down, setting the bowl next to the rattling AC, before going over to the camera and just watching the sun move through the lens.

Dave looked over at the fire escape when he heard rattling, watching it until a tuft of spiked bleached hair made it's way up. Dirk was the first of them to bleach their hair. Dave followed soon after, impressed with how it came out. Bro stopped bleaching his hair after the first time he tried, got drunk while it was in, left it in too long, and lost all of his hair. None of them even knew it D still bleached his hair, none of them have seen him in months, and the phone calls were always kept short and to the point. Dirk was holding Dave's phone, and Dave raises his eyebrows, managing to catch it as it hits his chest. No big deal if it fell, he got a phone case after the third phone he broke in the past year. Hard to keep phones when random strifes happen all the time. Dirk broke the silence first, coughing in to a balled up fist to clear his throat.

"You're phone was going off like crazy. It was annoying."

"Why were you in my room?"

"Your window is the window to the fire escape."

"I don't see why you feel the need to sneak in and out, do you really think Bro is gonna stop you or something?"

"What, you mean the fat log passed out drunk on the futon, shirt stained with nasty smelling mustard and Pepsi? No, he wouldn't stop me."

"Exactly. Then why do you sneak?"

Dirk shrugged, shoving both of his hands in to his pockets. "Good practice." Dave, admittedly, resists a laugh at his words. He was one of the most stealthy people in the house, hell, the most stealthy he even knew, and he told his brother just that. Dirk remained obstinate, unwavering even the slightest in his statement, simply shrugging his shoulders in response before he noticed the camera, shaking his head when he did. "Dave, you're such hipster trash, holy shit. You're taking frame by frames of the sunset. You're going to post it on Tumblr too, aren't?"

"I don't remember asking your opinion, Dirk."

Dirk couldn't help but crack a smirk, before turning his back to Dave, beginning to walk back over to the fire escape. "Yeah yeah, whatever. I'm going to bed. We still on for pool hopping tomorrow? Well. Not tomorrow. Later today?"

"Definitely. Who you got on your end?"

"Me and you. Jake was all down for some adventuring. Roxy said she'd convince Jane to be a delinquent for a night. And the witch."

"The witch? Who's that?"

"Take a wild guess."

"Uh... Meenah?"

"No, but I forgot, she did say she would try and come."

"Hm. Oh! Wait, the feminist chick, whatsherface, she what is it?"

"Aranea."

"Is that it?"

"Ding ding, pass go, you get to collect two hundred."

"So, she's still going after Jake? Hell, who isn't these days, Christ. Seriously, you all got some serious fucking love triangle going on over there, that's just a fire waiting to be poked."

"More like a love octagon or something. I like Jake, and only Jane knows that. Aranea likes Jake, me, Jane and Roxy all know about that. Jane likes Jake, me, Roxy and Meenah know about that. Meenah likes Aranea, everyone but Aranea knows that. Roxy likes Jake, I'm the only one that knows that, but she also likes Jane, and me and Jake know that."

"Shit. How do you remember all of that? I can't remember who likes who, and you remember who likes who and who knows and who doesn't know about who likes who. That was hard to say."

"I believe it. And I don't know, it just sticks in my head. Who's coming on your end?"

"Me. John said he'll tell his dad he's just spending the night. Jade said she's definitely coming. Rose said she would too, and that she'd convince Kanaya. Karkat cursed me out in Spanish, but agreed to come. I think. He said sí. I understand Spanish is his first language, but he knows I have the education of three months of public school Spanish classes with a teacher who uses Google translate more then we do."

"What's up with that love triangle?"

Dave shrugs, scratching his chin, although he hasn't actually grown any stubbled there yet. Soon, hopefully. "Not much of one. Rose and Kanaya are dating, Jade likes both of them and is planning on telling them soon. I like John, but he's straighter then a package of rulers in a church. I like Karkat too, but he hates my guts, so that's a no there. I think John had a thing for Rose, but that was last year, and he seems pretty over it by now."

"I see. But I don't think Karkat would talk to you if he hated you. He seems pretty straightforward in the whole "if I hate you I'm not going to talk to you at all and you're dead to me, but if you don't piss me off I'll act like you do but keep talking to you because secretly you aren't that bad" department."

"How in the hell is that straightforward in any way whatsoever."

"Guess it's not. Either way, I'll pay you twenty dollars to convince John to pull Jake's pants down at the pool."

"They're cousins."

"John is full of the prankster gambit, though."

"Does he know that Jane likes him? He might not want his precious sister catching an eyeful of English man meat. Wouldn't be awkward for Jade, too?"

"Won't it be awkward for Jake to see Jade flirting with Rose and Kanaya all night? Won't it be awkward for Roxy to see her sister making out with Kanaya all night? Won't it be awkward for me to watch you watching you stare at Karkat's chest and John's crotch all night? Won't it be awkward for you to watch me clinging on Jake all night? Won't it be awkward-"

"Alright alright, I get it, everyone's awkward as fuck and it sucks. Go to bed already."

"Right. See you at night. And Dave."

"What?"

"Go to sleep soon."

"Yeah yeah." Dave waved him off, watching as the yellow bleached hair descended down the fire escape, before going back over to the camera, leaving his bowl behind unknowingly. He grabbed his device, forgetting his phone in his pocket as well, shutting the camera off and slinging it around his neck, before going down the fire escape on his own. He didn't know if he was grateful Dirk left his window open, or annoyed. He didn't even want to think about the kinds of bugs that could be swarming around his room. Instead of dwelling on it, he just closes his window, locking it too, before setting the camera on the beat up board on top of some cinder blocks, aka, his desk. Dave then goes over to his bed, completely forgetting to message whoever it was that was messaging him, shucking off his jeans and watching them fly on top of other pairs in to the corner, phone lost with the jeans.

Only in boxers and a T-shirt (and his binder he always forgot to take off) now, he slides under his bedsheets, slipping his shades off and setting them carefully on the ground next to him. It takes him no time at all to fall asleep, thinking about everything they were going to do that night.

It was going to be brutal.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos help, comments give me motivation to write <3


End file.
